


So dark, so dark and deep

by Anonymous



Category: Les Misérables (Dallas 2014)
Genre: Chastity Device, Cock Cages, M/M, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert may not know all of M. Madeleine's secrets, but he knows what's under that fancy white suit of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So dark, so dark and deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



Town hall meetings were usually a dull affair. Madeleine had reinstated the old tradition on his election, insisting that it would somehow improve citizenship and encourage the townspeople to take an active interest in his various misguided projects. There was little evidence, though, that the meetings had achieved anything of the sort. The routine was the same: Madeleine would make a speech, introduce a guest speaker, Javert would update the meeting and finally Madeleine would take questions.The only worthwhile portion of the meeting was generally Javert's report on the town’s law enforcement, in which he would emphasise the dedication and high success rate of his officers. If he had to sit through Madeleine’s self-promotion and indulgence, at least he would make the most of his limited voice in the proceedings.

And then would come the complaining. Volumes of it. The townspeople would harangue Madeleine with complaints about the town’s services, personal insults and demands for more handouts. And all the while, Madeleine would sit in his pristine white suit, fingers steepled. And he would nod as though he understood and dispense his false platitudes and promise more, more, more. It was infuriating.

Today, however, everything was different.

Not different in any obvious way - the demands were still laughable, Madeleine’s suit was the same bleached-pure white and, naturally, the police’s record was impeccable as ever. To the untrained eye, it was just like any other meeting. But those who paid attention may have noticed a glistening of sweat on Madeleine’s scalp. Others might have detected the upturned corner of Javert’s mouth. They may even have observed Madeleine shifting occasionally in his seat. None of these things were damning, taken alone. And Javert was confident that no one in the room would even notice all three details, let alone make any sense of them.

How could they be expected to understand, after all? They were not in full possession of the facts. Javert would wager, for instance, there was not a single person in the room who knew that under his starched shirts and neat jackets, Madeleine’s body was lean and muscular and stained with more tattoos than Javert had ever observed on a law-abiding man. Madeleine had kept his eyes lowered the first time Javert peeled away his layers to reveal the truth of him, but he hadn’t resisted, and so Javert hadn’t stopped. _I see Monsieur had a troubled youth_ he’d remarked before leaning forward to nip at Madeleine’s throat, tasting inked flesh and sweat and the man’s thudding pulse.

No, none of these people knew Madeleine as Javert did. Nor did they know the way Javert had made these meetings tolerable for himself. It had started easily enough. A simple game: for every hypocritical word that passed the Mayor’s lips, Javert privately decreed, the man would pay for it later on. Every lie about the worth of the town’s worst scum, every platitude and every scrap of false morality would be rewarded in kind and in turn. 

Madeleine himself didn’t know the rules of Javert’s game. If he ever wondered why Javert insisted on parading him through the streets on some meaningless errand with his jacket rumpled and tie half-loosened, he certainly wouldn’t have guessed the cause. If Javert, while pressing him into the mattress, dug three fingertips into Madeleine’s shoulder and pressed so hard that the marks could still be seen the following day, it was assumed to be nothing more than Javert’s whim. 

And so it was that Madeleine, used to indulging Javert, had found himself in his current predicament. It was his third day in the cage that Javert had secured around his cock, and with each passing day he was unravelling a little more. Javert had visited him in his office the previous day and enjoyed a pleasant few minutes of the mayor on his knees. Madeleine’s mouth was sweet and urgent as he put it to work between Javert’s legs. The outline of his trapped flesh stood out clearly through his pressed white trousers, straining for any kind of relief. Javert did not even allow him to unfasten them.

Afterwards, he watched his come swell and drop from Madeleine’s slack mouth. Madeleine’s lips were pink, his eyes wide and dark in a way that made him almost unrecognisable to Javert. He supposed that at these unguarded moments, he could see a little of the softness that the women of the town found so appealing about the man who, to Javert, had always seemed so hard-edged. Perhaps that was the benefit of the cage, then. With all that vicious masculinity tamped down and at another man's command, Madeleine almost seemed to resemble the quiet, gentle saint he pretended to be.

‘You should thank me for this,’ he had said, caressing Madeleine’s cheek, his thumb nudging at the man’s soft, well-used mouth. Madeleine squeezed his eyes closed at the words but turned his face into Javert’s hand. He ground out something bestial and helpless, smearing the mess further across his face as he did so. And that was the state Javert left him in. He didn’t even bother visiting Madeleine at home that night. It was more satisfying to bring himself off slowly to the thought of Madeleine pacing his floor, breath coming faster and more desperate as it dawned on him that his captivity would last at least another day.

 _The meeting_ , he reminded himself sharply. He glanced across the table. Madeleine’s fingertips were pressed to his lips, almost concealing the anxious bite-marks around his cuticles, which only Javert would think to look for. Under the desk, a faint tremor carried from Valjean’s jittering leg. His voice was rough. 

He had been suffering for some time, now. Javert himself had not even seen the man's cock in days, but he could imagine it clearly. Swollen and leaking and desperate for relief. Javert himself felt a sympathetic thrum in the pit of his stomach. He could feel his own answering need -- a righteous mirror of Madeleine's deprivation -- even though he himself had continued to make use of the man's body as usual since locking the device in place. Heaven knew how what a trial it must have been for Madeleine himself. But he had not complained or asked to be released. In fact, he wore his suffering with little more than a shuddering breath and a bowed head.

Madeleine’s speech was hitting its stride now. His voice firmer and more certain as he answered a question about the future of Montreuil’s mechanical engineers if his planned environmental reforms were carried out. Javert allowed the words to blur into a meaningless din, focusing instead on the well-concealed roughness of Madeleine’s breath and the urgency of his tone. 

He would not be able to endure much more of this, Javert thought. After the meeting, he would have to put a stop to it. He could picture the scene clearly enough in his mind: He would take Madeleine by the arm, an officer escorting the mayor to his office, and once they were behind closed doors he would have him strip from the waist down. Madeleine did not enjoy being examined too closely, and so Javert allowed himself this lapse. Let Madeleine hide behind his tailored suits for now. It would not make a difference in the end. 

Of course, there would still be plenty of Madeleine’s body exposed to his eyes, and the man's reaction to his predicament would be satisfying enough. Madeleine knew better than to try anything, but he could never hide his feelings when Javert’s eyes were on him. Javert could see him now: half-stripped and still a touch defiant - his shoulders shaking with each ragged breath, his jaw clenched as he stared up at Javert. And still he would not say no. By God, it would be a thing to savour. 

First Javert would look his fill, examining Madeleine from all angles. And then finally - finally! - he would use his hands. First he would check that the device was still locked in place. He imagined taking his time, brushing his thumb over the sensitive head of Madeleine’s reddened cock and teasing his balls with exploratory fingertips. Could a man be made to orgasm while wearing the cage? Perhaps he would find out. Madeleine had certainly waited long enough.

Not right away, though, of course. First, he would serve his sentence for the nonsense he spouted in the meeting. Javert had counted at least three hypocrisies - one of which might have even been an outright lie. What did that warrant? Three swats with the belt, perhaps? Or one swat and only two fingers’ preparation afterwards? Now that was a thought.

An image rose in his mind, obscene and unbidden. Madeleine bent over his own desk, his ass stinging red and desperate for any kind of touch. His cock, still trapped in the device, leaking and aching. Perhaps Javert would make him scream this time. The mayor was always so quiet under Javert’s hands. Such a shame when he was so willing to stand up and make a fool of himself at regular town meetings. 

Across the room, Madeleine glanced in Javert’s direction and, perhaps seeing a glimpse of his own future in Javert’s eyes, paled slightly. It only lasted a moment before Madeleine regained control of himself. His forehead creased and his shoulders stiffened. The parts of his physique that screamed his guilt to Javert were as apparent as suddenly as the light shifts in the evening. Soon, Javert thought, that mouth would be stretched out into a gasping O and those eyes would stare up at him, dark and helpless. Soon he would tease out Madeleine’s alluring vulnerability. But until then, let the man speak in platitudes and hide in plain sight before his people. If Javert could see things they couldn’t, well, that was part of his job. And in time, the sinner would be exposed in all his depravity.

And until then? Javert bared his teeth at Madeleine across the room, thinking again of the tormented body beneath that fine white suit. Until then, he could take some satisfaction in being the only sane man in town.


End file.
